


Rose Ink

by TheGreenMeerkat



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Author Doesn't Know Anything About Flower Arrangements, Fluff, Getting Together, I am Inconsistent with tensing Don't @me lol, I did my best, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21961420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreenMeerkat/pseuds/TheGreenMeerkat
Summary: In the city of Tillamook, Oregon, a peculiar shop stands in a shopping center, surrounded by gorgeous art and colorful flowers.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 9
Kudos: 97
Collections: Sanders Sides Secret Santa 2019





	Rose Ink

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas! Sorry for posting this late. I've been very sick, and looking at a computer screen has been pretty difficult. I'm not sure if I'm super proud of this work, but I hope you like it!
> 
> Warnings: None except a bit of cursing
> 
> (The two shops mentioned in this work are based on real places in Tillamook, Oregon, but only the names. Everything else in this story is pure fiction.)

“Roman, get out of the bathroom already. We’re going to be late!”

“You know I have to look my best, Virgil! The local news is coming this year and there is no way I’m letting Logan look better than me again!”

After another five minutes, Roman came downstairs dawned in a spring dress, decorated with pretty blue flowers he still couldn’t name on his own. No matter how hard his florist husband tried, Virgil could never get him to remember flower identification. It’s not like he can teach Virgil how to tattoo, either.

“Yeah, we’re just about to leave Pat. Don’t worry, don’t worry, we’ll make it!” Virgil got off the phone with Patton to take Roman’s extended hand, smiling with stressed excitement. “Can’t believe it’s already been one year since we opened. Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be, my dear.”

Newcomers and tourists to the small city of Tillamook, Oregon always asked Roman how Rose Ink came to be. He would brush it off and say he made it with his husband and friends, but natives to the town know the story is much more interesting.

Ten years ago, two shops sat next to each other in a strip of stores on 3rd street, standing out among the rest for their bright colors and decorations. One was the Anderson Florist, including plants and bouquets of all kinds resting below and hanging from above. 

Roman Sanders would often watch employees watering the flowers on his lunch break. He worked next door at Mike Toth Art, a tattoo parlor decorated with various designs in the window along with graffiti along the outer walls. Though never part of his dreams, Roman could never ask for more out of his job here.

He knew only one of the florist employees by name: Logan Adams punctually introduced himself to all the tattoo artists after he started dating Patton Reed, the current owner of the tattoo shop. Roman was rather close to Patton - he was the only one of his coworkers he would regularly meet up with - but even he could never understand how someone so bubbly could be with someone so uptight. Despite that, they always seemed to fit together perfectly when around each other.

There was one other employee he saw almost as frequently as Logan. A lanky, awkward man with a head of fluffy purple hair would often be the one watering the plants outside. He always had the same black and purple hoodie on no matter the season, and his pale complexion would make Roman think he was a vampire if he hadn't seen him in the sun before.

Though he didn't know the man's name, he had chosen the nickname "Anxiety," for two reasons: 1) He looked like a scared teenager most of the time, despite the fact he was most likely around Roman's age, and 2) He had a small satchel with him at all times, one of the few pins attached to it reading "anxiety" over a purple stormcloud.

He wasn't trying to be a stalker, he just liked to learn about people. He had a nickname for everyone in his neighborhood, from the old couple holding hands on the porch every morning to the rambunctious group of kids riding bikes up and down the street. Roman was a people person at heart, and it helped him to be a better actor in the local plays he participated in.

The one thing he always looks for first on a person is any tattoos. He doesn't know if that's a common habit with tattoo artists, but he knows Patton does the same thing. Anxiety's baggy clothes may hide most of his skin, but his neck is always visible to the world, exposing a small slightly faded semicolon tattoo.

A brave soul, Roman thinks, who probably listens to MCR and Paramore. And gay too, judging by the rainbow flag pin he also has on his satchel. He reminded him of an older, wiser, living Connor Murphy.

He thought that would be all he would ever learn about Anxiety, which is more than he could say about any other stranger. However, he's proven wrong when he sees a familiar face enter the tattoo shop one day.

"Virgil Anderson, I have an appointment."

Roman immediately looks at his schedule for today and sees that the client he was waiting for this afternoon was indeed a 'Virgil Anderson.' The name - specifically, the last name - now stands out to him as a rather odd coincidence.

Anxiety, or Virgil, awkwardly saunters over with his hands in his pocket, but removes one with a shy smile to shake Roman's hand. "Virgil Anderson."

"So I've heard. What will we be getting today?"  _ He's cuter up close. _

Unfortunately for Roman, he wouldn't get much time to learn more about his cute stranger, as the tattoo he wanted was rather simple: a black vine wrapped around his right wrist. The tiny detail work would make it last a little longer, but Roman's best client conversations come doing solid medium tattoos.

"So 'Anderson,' huh?" Roman begins to pick up a conversation as he prepares his tattoo gun. "I've seen you around at Anderson Florist. Any correlation?"

Virgil gives a small nervous chuckle at that, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, uh, my moms own the place. Bought it from some retiring old lady a couple years back."

Roman hummed in acknowledgment, now much too invested in his Anxiety's life. "And do you like working there?"

"It's a bit… overwhelming." He begins tapping his fingers lightly against the desk. "But I like the arrangements. I'm kinda overqualified when it comes to knowing flowers thanks to my moms, so that's definitely a plus."

"Oh, how romantic! You must do great with romance." Was he trying to flirt? Perhaps, perhaps not. That all depends on how Tall Dark and Handsome takes it.

Virgil snorts and covers his mouth as if he were about to spit out his drink, composing himself once again. "Uh, yeah. Sure."

"And do you have any other tattoos, Virgil? Besides the one on your neck, of course." Roman sits down in front of Virgil, who has his hoodie sleeve rolled up just enough for Roman to do his job.

"Oh yeah, hold on." Surprisingly enough, the cryptic Anxiety finally takes off that baggy hoodie to reveal his lanky arms (and a band T-shirt, but it's one he doesn't recognize). On his right bicep is a skull with a large violet rose on the side of its head. A bit lower down on the left side is what appears to be Mothman. Despite his overall skinniness, he does appear to have a little bit of muscle in his biceps - but he's still deadly pale.

"There's also an anemone just above my ankle- the flower, not the sea animal." Roman almost asks to see it as he doesn't know what an anemone flower looks like, but he can't get himself to admit that to Mr. Master of All Flowers Anderson. He's just glad Virgil's experienced with tattoos.

Roman finally got to beginning the tattoo, but unfortunately, he had already ran out of questions to ask his stranger. What to say to a cute florist you've been lowkey stalking from your workplace? Well, perhaps that's a good start. "Y'know, I've seen you around a lot. I even got a nickname for you."

"Hah!" Roman feels embarrassed for a moment with that reaction, but Virgil shakes his head. "No, it's funny cause I did the same thing."

"Oh really? What is it, then?"

"Oh no way, you're saying my nickname first, Pri-" Virgil stops himself in the middle of his sentence. Realizing his mistake, Roman smiled at him with a raised brow. "Okay, fine, it's Princey."

" _ Princey _ . Does that mean you think I look like a prince?" He actually rather likes that nickname. No one's ever given him one before, and now a complete stranger gave him one that fits so well.

"More like I think you look stuck up." Roman fains strong offense, gasping and covering his mouth in shock, though he could tell the other man was just teasing. "But you are pretty, so you certainly qualify as one."

_ Oh ho ho, flirting back now, are we? _ "So you think I'm pretty. I'll have to keep that in mind. I  _ have _ been compared to a Disney prince before."

It's barely noticeable, but Roman swears to it that there's a hint of red on Virgil's cheeks. "Hey, it's your turn. What's my nickname."

"Well, now I'm ashamed. Mine is nowhere near as creative as yours!" He sighed dramatically, as if that needs to be pointed out; everything he does is theatrical. "It's Anxiety."

"Haha, holy shit!" Roman stopped his tattooing as Virgil laughed, taking in the view. He had a feeling this was a rare occurrence, the emo man smiling and laughing. "Oh man, I should not like that as much as I do. Guess I'm the physical embodiment of anxiety, now."

"And I suppose I need to find a prince role to play. I've been the Beast from Beauty and the Beast, but I've never had the opportunity to be a real prince!"

"Of course you're in theater. I bet you have a playlist filled with a horrible mashup of random Broadway and Disney songs."

"I'll have you know that Disney music goes extremely well with The Waitress!"

"I'm sure it does, but there's this thing called "real music" that you should give a try."

They continued to bicker and tease throughout the tattooing process. He doesn't know about Virgil, but Roman has never connected so easily with a customer, or  _ anyone _ for that matter. Their conversation came naturally, no awkward silences or forced small talk. In fact, he may have stalled on the tattoo just to keep talking to him, just a little bit.

But all good things must come to an end. And Roman, the coward, didn't even ask for his number.

/

Virgil couldn't help but walk into work the next day with a smile. He's not sure what he's become, but just knowing Princey, Roman, was working right next door gave him the butterflies of a 13-year-old girl.

Maybe it was because Virgil never got to be that 13-year-old. Like many queer folks, his teenage years were absent of the many typical teen experiences. He didn't have his first kiss until he was 22, and he's only dated one other person since then.

Roman was  _ different, _ though. It was the first time in a while Virgil met someone and felt no anxiety talking to someone (the last person was Logan, and even that took a while). And, despite being clearly out of his league, Roman showed interest in him  _ back. _ Roman thought he was cute!

He hates himself for falling so quickly - it's just an infatuation, as Logan would say, and he knows that, but  _ goddamn _ does it hit hard. Roman could be an absolute asshole as far as he knows, yet the prince already has him wrapped around his finger.

Honestly, he shouldn’t have been so surprised when Roman popped into the shop that day. Even so, the sight of him caused Virgil to trip over his feet and nearly ruin the bouquet he was carrying.

“Why, I didn't know my presence would be so shocking!"  _ That cocky bastard. _ Princey turned towards the other man in the room, who was shooting a knowing smirk. "Logan! Lovely to see you again."

"Likewise." Logan uncrossed his arms and made his way towards Virgil, taking the bouquet out of his hands. "Virgil, you didn't tell me you met Roman. I'll take care of this, and you can cater to our friend here." With a wink he left the room, Virgil trying his damndest to not hiss at this horrible betrayal. He was  _ not  _ going to make a fool of himself.

"My dear Virgil, I have a special request from you." God, what gives him the right to call him that? One half-hour conversation over a tattoo and he thinks he can act all suave. "I need an arrangement made.”

“Alright, what are you looking for?”

Roman placed his hands on the countertop with his typical dramatics, giving Virgil a look of complete seriousness. “I need a bouquet to ask someone out with. Feel free to show off that flower expertise you told me about.”

Oh. Maybe… Virgil misunderstood. Maybe Roman was just that flirtatious to everyone.

“Actually, I think I have one already set up that would work perfectly.” A nasty part of him wanted to sabotage the bouquet - it’s not like anyone would notice, even most botanists don’t know the in-depth symbolism of every flower - but he’d like to think he was a little bit of a better man than that. Plus, Roman didn’t deserve that.

He quickly grabbed the vase of flowers from the back and set it on the counter, Roman already brightening up by the sight of it. “The yellow Daffodil symbolizes new beginnings and future success, and if it fails, you can play it off as the color yellow representing friendship.” Virgil winked, making the princely man giggle. Whoever these flowers were going to better be thankful. “The blue violet would usually be used for someone already in a relationship, but it also symbolizes intuition and faith. Then the lavender heather here represents beauty and admiration. The white baby’s breath here is a filler, but it represents happiness and everlasting love. I know it doesn’t look like the typical romantic bouquet--”

“Are you kidding? It’s perfect!” Roman put his hands around the vase and examined the flowers. “Can you add a note to it? I don’t care if it costs more.”

“Nah, it’s free.” He grabbed a piece of floral paper and pen from under the counter, uncapping it with his teeth. “What do you want it to say?”

Suddenly, Princey leaned in close, resting his chin on the back of his hand with a smile. “Write ‘For Roman,’ and  _ your _ number.”

Oh.  _ Oh. _

Virgil couldn’t hide his smile this time. “You cliche bastard. You know you still have to pay for them, right?” Really, he should have known Roman would pull something like this. Who else would the tattoo artist suddenly want to ask out with flowers when he has never bought a bouquet from them before?

“Well I was hoping to pay for dinner would be enough?”

“If you want me to be  _ fired, _ then sure.”

“Oh, I’m sure your moms would forgive you if you explained-”

“That’ll be $53.75.”

And that was that.

The next nine years would shape the rest of their lives, along with the life of the two cozy shops. It would take three more years for Logan and Patton to marry, and another two years for Virgil to ask Roman to marry him. Two more years and Virgil’s moms would retire, giving the shop to their only son who would accept it excitedly and reluctantly.

It was Roman who brought the insane idea to Virgil and Patton. Though the two had become very close friends, it seemed much too unrealistic, even for the optimistic Patton. But when Virgil absentmindedly brought up the idea to his mothers, they latched onto it with glee.

And after three more years of work, Rose Ink was born.


End file.
